


khaki jacket and a love gun

by roseandthorns28



Series: [insert title] [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes has a Potty Mouth, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Team as Family, The thirst is real, Tony wants to give Bucky things like self esteem and blowjobs, aou? don't know her, bucky barnes in uniform, playing fast and loose with canon, so does tony, unapologetic self indulgent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-08-16 23:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16504445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandthorns28/pseuds/roseandthorns28
Summary: Tony goes in with all the right intentions to help James "Bucky" Barnes' integration into the public sphere but fails to anticipate the consequences of seeing the fruits of his labour on his poor libido. And seriously, who the hell put him in a dress uniform?! Oh wait, Tony did.“Where is he, J?”“Sergeant Barnes is-“Tony tunes out the rest of the sentence as he stops at the entryway to the common room because he knows where to find him.Sergeant Barnesis sitting- no, is sprawled- on the black leather couch, smack-dab in the middle. He’s laid claim to almost the entire thing, taking up the space designed for three men, still partially dressed in his dress uniform.Tony stares.





	1. Boring Background BS

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the Iron Maiden song, "Women in Uniform". A little bit of a stretch but I couldn't help but get stuck on this line.
> 
> This has been looked over by loads of people just because I was so damn insecure about this but mostly, thanks to [Simi ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen/works) and [ Bill ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow) for beta-ing it for me
> 
> this is a purely self-indulgent fic with lots of uniform thirst from tony.  
> you've been warned.
> 
> also, this is not a direct continuation of the previous two fics, so can be read as a stand alone.

Tony decides to break the news at breakfast. It’s a nice peaceful time of the day; everyone loves breakfast, right? And if people are occupied with eating, then they’re not really paying attention to how much attention Tony is paying to him – to this. To the issue: Barnes.

“Barnes, you’re getting Twitter.”

The soldier in question freezes with a spoonful of sugary Fruity Loops midway to his mouth – which now hangs open – as his eyes affix on Tony.  
It should look ridiculous. It _does_ look ridiculous. Not endearing. Not at all.

Well, maybe announcing it without context was a bad idea.

“Is that… a disease?”

“What? No, well, I mean, an argument can be made for that but no, Gramps, it’s a social media platform where people bang out pseudo-intellectual opinions in under 140 char– wait, you’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”  

“Kinda. And of the two of us, you’re the one who’s got grey in his hair, so how come I'm Gramps?”

“Get the hell out. Who're you calling old?  My hair is _dignified._  Silver is the latest trend. Such disrespect in my own kitchen. Unbelievable.”

Steve cuts in before Tony can expound on how this can be construed as grounds for immediate removal from the Tower. It’s been months since Bucky Barnes came in from the cold and insinuated himself into the Avengers’ routine. They’ve come to a point where Tony can joke about throwing him out and then _not_ run into Barnes at the elevator, at 3 in the morning, armed with a packed bag.  
That had been one hell of a Saturday. Lots of manly tears all around.

“Tony, why does Bucky need a Twitter?” Steve asks, amused.

“Because as of last month, Bucky Barnes is a pardoned, reinstated member of society and in the _coming_ month, we’re going to be announcing said war relic’s inclusion to the roster. And the best way to announce your presence into this world is Twitter. Short, sweet, easily monitored, spreads like wildfire, instantaneous reactions; it’ll be great.”

“Is that really necessary? I mean, it seems a little… premature.”

“If we want to come out on top of the media circus, we’ll have to pre-empt this. It’s the only way,” Tony replies, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug.

He understands Steve’s trepidations, of course he does. The amount of Twitter hate Tony constantly gets can power the entire Manhattan district with the force of its rage. But Bucky Barnes is a clean slate and if done well, with all the proper precautions, they can totally pull this off.

“He’s right, Steve,” Natasha adds, joining the conversation seamlessly, despite not having been anywhere on the observable plane just seconds ago.

“Trust me, I have way too much experience in dealing with this kind of thing. Plus, I have the best PR staff, whom I pay through the nose to handle damage control and to spin whatever information is released positively. Don’t worry, Barnes, you’ll have more than enough time to prepare. We’ll stagger it out. Give them crumbs until we parade out the feast.”

“ _Feast_ , huh?” Natasha teases at his elbow, with her patented ‘I know what you’re thinking smirk’.

Tony consciously avoids eye-contact nonchalantly by typing furiously on his phone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now excuse me, I have calls to make,” he says, taking his leave without looking back, especially not at the corner where Barnes sits spooning cereal into his mouth, dressed in one of Steve’s too-tight t-shirts.

He can almost hear Natasha’s cackling.

It’s just not Tony’s day today.

 

______________ 

 

 

Bucky Barnes sits in the conference room, his knee bouncing in agitation as he waits for the PR Representative Tony had told him to meet.

This is so out of his comfort zone. As Bucky Barnes, he’d always been fighting on the frontlines and as the Winter Soldier, well, technically he hadn’t existed at all and HYDRA had never been too concerned with their public image. An amused snort escapes him at the thought of HYDRA parading around the Winter Soldier like Stevie’s USO tours, complete with kicking showgirls and motorcycle lifts. Maybe he’d be punching a fake Captain America in those.

“Oh, you’re in a good mood already, that’s helpful.” The speaker is a woman of mocha complexion, walking in on dangerous-looking heels and a spotless pantsuit, carrying the proprietary StarkTab. She takes a seat right next to Bucky and crosses her legs, placing her folded hands on her knee.

“Um, hi. Bucky Barnes,” he says, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Tanya Singh, nice to meet you. Shall we get started?”

“Sure. I kind of don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Well, my job is essentially to help manage your public image, including and not limited to your interactions on social media, your physical appearance on events, what you say, whose hands you shake, all of those sundry details. Let’s start with where you are already in terms of your public presence.”

“I have a Twitter. Does that help?” Bucky replies hesitantly. It’s something he’d gotten JARVIS to help him with the evening of Tony’s demand that he get one. Sue him, he’d been curious. And if the first person he’d followed was Tony himself then that was between JARVIS and him, because he’d overcorrected that by following each and every person he knew that he could find, including the barista at the cafeteria in the lounge.

“Yes, I’ve seen it. It was a smart move. Yours is actually very good, the mix of observational comedy, dark humour, and nihilism. It resonates with the young population which is probably why your follower count is growing so fast.”

He didn’t even know he had a follower count. He’s just been kinda using it to shout into the void and ignoring any replies that come back in that are not from anyone on his list of ten people he sees everyday.

“I’ve kinda just been writing what’s going on in my mind.”

“Keep that up. Just make sure to have someone, mainly me, vet anything controversial you might stumble into. This includes any mentions of minority communities, especially women, people of colour, the LGBT community, political views, or religious sentiments.”

“As if this wasn’t hard enough already,” Bucky grumbles to himself.  He thinks back to the few weeks he’s been trying to put his thoughts out in the public while making sure not to accidentally reveal how fucked up he truly is, and also try to be interesting and humorous. It’s a delicate balance and he has no idea how people seem to do it so seamlessly. And that’s when it’s just this one thing. God knows what’s gonna happen at interviews.

“That’s why I’m here. From now on, think of me as your PR guru. I’ll be helping you with anything and everything that’s related to your persona in the public eye.”

His face must be doing something very obviously distasteful because Miss Singh just raises an eyebrow and asks in a firm voice, “Is there a problem, Sergeant?”

“I just- Tony said you’d be helping me with the…. event? I didn’t know you were going to work on the Twitter thing as well.”  

“Well, I’ll be doing more than that. Mr. Stark likes to understate our role but we’re the ones who actually make him look good,” the woman replies but despite her words, her tone is fond, like the friendly teasing he and Sam indulge in sometimes.

“I think his suits make him look plenty good, ma’am,” Bucky defends before realising he probably just revealed too much of himself to an employee of Stark’s.

The way Ms. Singh raises an eyebrow at him reminds him very starkly of Natasha and he has a moment of appreciative wonder at Tony for having such strong women in his life. “Well, you’re not wrong. Speaking of, let’s talk about your clothes. That’s a good starting point, actually. We’re planning on putting you in your old military dress uniform.”

Bucky falters at that, “I’m sure you know what you’re doing, ma’am, but I’m not the Bucky Barnes that wore that uniform. I’m not- that’s not me anymore.” He looks away, letting his hair fall into his face. “Besides, hasn’t the thing probably turned to dust by now?”

“Obviously it’s not going to be the same uniform, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky, please.”

“Alright, Bucky. Call me Tanya. And as for your uniform, Mr. Stark will be hiring one of the best designers in the industry to create an updated version for you to wear without looking like you’re playing dress-up for a World War 2 reenactment.”

“I don’t understand. That style of uniform isn’t even in use anymore. Why would he – why would you make me wear that?”

“It’s more about the image, actually. It’s all a very carefully crafted image that we’ll be presenting to the public. For it to work, it’ll have to appeal to all the different demographics. We can’t afford to alienate anyone, especially since Mr. Stark tells me they’ll be announcing your addition to the Avengers soon thereafter.”

“Well, you’re the expert here. I’m just the mook who you’re gonna work your magic on,” Bucky says with a sheepish smile.

“In that case, shut up and let me tell you just how I’m going to manage that.” Tanya finally smiles for the first time since entering the room, all sharp and ruthless but with a hint of fondness if you know what to look for.

 

Bucky likes her a lot more after that.


	2. The Thirst

The First Responder’s Ball hosted by the Maria Stark Foundation is James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes’ first public appearance. Everything about his presence, from the detailing on his uniform to the event itself is carefully calculated and approved by Tony himself.

The sight of Bucky Barnes looking like he just stepped out of the newsreels – _attending a charity event hosted by the Maria Stark foundation, accompanied by Steve Rogers_ – lays it on thick about the man’s heroic past. That along with the uniform diverts all attention away from the Winter Soldier issue and towards the glory days of American ass-kicking where the distinction between “good” and “bad” was pretty black and white. 

It is a _brilliant_ Machiavellian play by his PR team.

Tony can see the effect the construct presents almost instantaneously. Now that he’s cleaned up, the super soldier is mouth-wateringly attractive, especially dressed like that, broad shoulders thrown back, posture military straight, which is offset by his peaked cap that rests at a roguish tilt.

It’s a good thing Tony’s been so diligent in keeping up to date with the fittings and details of this event; he’s had time to desensitize himself. Otherwise, Tony’s ‘soldier’ would have also been standing at attention at the sight of a sharply-dressed Sergeant Barnes.

Still, even various behind the scene view of a grumpy Barnes being poked with needles and groomed to within an inch of his life doesn’t take away from the spectacle in front of him. Better to just… keep his distance until he can figure out a way to not blurt out something inappropriate to a fellow future teammate.

It isn’t hard to do. Barnes mostly shadows Steve, which provides enough incentive for Tony to _not_ go out of his way engage him beyond standing on the same stage, as Tony gives his welcome speech. He already has enough hands to shake because it’s not like Tony himself isn’t busy.

This ball is a way to unify the divide between the First Responders – namely, the police, EMTs, and Firemen – as well as the Avengers who are responsible for a lot of their overtime. It’s a celebration of the _real_ heroes of the city, with a guestlist ranging from the Mayor down to the ground staff.

Which means Tony’s ping-ponging between glad-handing the big wigs and genuinely appreciating the men and women on the ground, some of whom he knows by name – repeated interactions and such.

The frenzy of the event helps him save himself from embarrassment. Still, he keeps an eye out for Barnes, feeling inordinately proud when the man breaks off from his Captain-America-shaped security blanket and mingles on his own, his public mask almost as good as Tony’s.

He never comes to talk to Tony though. Which is actually in his favour, since every time he catches a glimpse of the olive-toned khakis and shiny brass buttons from the corner of his eye, his stomach swoops a little.

First thing tomorrow, Tony’s getting himself to a gastroenterologist because this is just unacceptable.  

Despite the careful avoidance of the 6-foot-tall, shoulder span broader than a Prius problem, he notices Barnes duck out early from the gala after a long conversation with Steve (the latter using his belligerent-chin expression throughout). There’s a lot of back and forth, some heavy gesturing, some very cheeky eye-rolling by Barnes, all of this in hushed whispers in the corner, thankfully away from cameras. 

Finally, as Tony watches from the bar with his glass of scotch on the rocks, Barnes waves away Steve’s concerned expression and sneaks out. Well, Tony assumes he sneaks out, since one moment he’s there and the next he isn’t. He never thought that happened outside of movies, but living with super spy and assassins has cured him of _that_ particular misconception.

His life is a riot, really.

Truth be told, he doesn’t so much follow Barnes as much as feels the exhaustion of the whirlwind week catch up to him and decides maybe the old man has the right idea. And if he takes a small detour to check up on him then, well, Tony’s just that nice a guy.

“Where is he, J?”

“Sergeant Barnes is-“

Tony tunes out the rest of the sentence as he stops at the entryway to the common room because he knows where to find him.

 _Sergeant Barnes_ is sitting- no, _is_ _sprawled-_ on the black leather couch, smack-dab in the middle.

He’s laid claim to almost the entire thing, taking up the space designed for three men.

He’s still dressed – _partially_ – in his dress uniform, missing the jacket, belt, and tie. His head is tipped back, hair loose free from the military cap he’d been sporting, fanning out on the backrest, eyes closed, the tiny, permanent furrow still present between his brows, his clean shaven jaw looking sharp enough to cut glass.

His starched shirt is gaping at the collar, with two more buttons opened _completely unnecessarily_ because all they serve to do is expose the long, long expanse of his throat, draw attention to the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, luring the eye down to the dip between his collarbones – _perfect to run one’s tongue into_ – the gaping shirt exposing hints of his clavicles.   

His arms are resting over the back on either sides, biceps straining the poor material of the shirt – _crafted for comfort, not to hold back a super soldier’s flexed muscles_ – his arms encompassing almost the entire length of the backrest. To add insult to injury, his cuffs are rolled up messily to his elbows, exposing his forearms: the taut, sinewed right with a faint dusting of hair and blemish free, smooth looking skin while the left flaunts the distinctive, articulated surface of the bionic arm.  

The dim, yellow mood lights glint over the shiny panels, the vents closed, giving the illusion of a sinuous cast of liquid silver from afar.

It’s only now that it’s available for literal side by side comparison that it’s obvious how much greater the girth of the metal wrist is than the right one.

A quick calculation also tells him by how much _exactly_.

Tony doesn’t know what to do with this information.

Barnes’ hands are still against the couch, the silver of his loosely-curled fingers contrasting sharply against the midnight black.

The looseness of the posture belies the real danger of him, projecting an image of false vulnerability. Just because the Winter Soldier’s jugular is exposed doesn’t mean he has a chink in his armour, that he isn’t completely aware of even the tiniest of stimulus, that he isn’t still capable of cutting a path of destruction through a room in less than a minute leaving no survivors.

His feet are firmly planted on the ground, further giving weight to the idea that the soldier is ready to respond at a moment’s notice.

The man is a study in contradictions.

The pant’s hem lift enough to show the pastel pink socks he’s worn, the fabric bunched at his knees that are spread wide – _wide enough to accommodate someone’s chest between them_ – leading up to those obscene thighs that seem fit to burst through the khakis. If Tony had super hearing, he’s sure he could hear the stitches popping from their moorings.

He looks like a catalogue model yet he looks completely disheveled, as if someone had pushed the Sergeant onto the couch and messed him up in all the right ways.

Tony’s had wet dreams that were tamer than the picture he’s presented with. Hell, Tony’s had wet dreams about _Sergeant Barnes_ in his teens that were tamer than this.

There is a soft _swoosh_ of cloth moving against leather that breaks him from his lust induced stupor, and he looks up to find grey-blue eyes trained on him with a sniper’s focus.

“There a problem, Stark?”

“Uh – yeah, big one. Huge. As in the amount of space you’re taking up on my couch. Seriously, Barnes. Manspreading is so 2012,” Tony says, walking into the room as if he hadn’t just been blatantly exploring every inch of the soldier with his eyes.

Neither of them mention that there are four other pieces of furniture scattered around the coffee table, and that there are also seven other viable non-couch surfaces for Tony to park his butt.

Barnes blinks at him before a lopsided smile spreads on his lips, and he drawls, sweet as honey, “Well, you can always just come sit on my lap.”


	3. Revenge of the Thirst

Let it never be said that Tony Stark met a challenge he didn’t accept. Whether it is the competitive genius in him or a childhood of never measuring up to people’s expectations, he’s not sure but as soon as the words ‘I dare you’ are implied in someone’s tone, Tony’s on it double time, like white on rice, already trying to prove them wrong.  
Which is probably the reason why he’s currently straddling the Winter Soldier’s broad, broad thighs, knees digging into the cushions, hands braced on the back of the couch, looking down at a wide eyed Bucky Barnes.

The transition from standing a few feet away to sitting on what is effectively Bucky Barnes’ lap happens so fast that even Tony doesn’t realise how he got there, what to say of a confused Barnes who looks like Tony just exhibited his hidden power of teleportation.

He didn’t exactly plan for the night to end up here, secretly dreamt about it, sure, but Tony does always perform best when he’s improving on the fly so he just smirks and looks into those gorgeous, mercurial eyes. “You were saying?”

Barnes, the poor thing, loses some of his deer in headlights expression and he sits more upright now, hands hovering awkwardly in the air over Tony’s hips.  
“You comfortable?” He asks in amusement.

“You _can_ touch me, you know.”

Something flashes in Bucky’s eyes and he licks his lips before answering, “Oh, doll, you shouldn’t go around giving people such blanket permissions.” His hands finally land on Tony’s hips, fluttering slightly, still tentative in their touch.

Tony shrugs slightly, locking eyes with Barnes. “It’s okay, I trust you.”

They both know that the words hold so many more implications than the surface and Tony catches a truly heartbreaking look cross Bucky’s face.

Not wanting to derail the moment with _feelings_ and _emotional revelations_ , Tony tucks back a longish strand of hair behind his ear where it stays, courtesy of the pomade. “This haircut suits you.”

“Miss Singh got me to the best people,” Bucky replies, his voice wavering slightly. He clears his throat and his thumbs slowly rub at the fabric of Tony’s cummerbund. “Told me you had very exact specifications.”

Tony’s ears feel warm with the hint of a blush. Fancy that, he thought he’d lost the ability a long, long time ago along with the last vestiges of his shame.

“I know what I like.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up at the response. “You’re makin’ this real hard to resist.”

“Who said you had to?”

Bucky finally, finally tightens his hold on Tony’s hips and tugs him down, causing Tony to disbalance and brace himself on Bucky’s strong, broad shoulders, bringing their faces that much closer together.

“Hi there.”

“Can I kiss you, Tony?” It’s an almost whispered question.

Tony wants to be petty and reply with a, ‘I don’t know, _can_ you?’ but he sees the fragile look in Bucky’s eye shuts that thought down quick. Instead, he softens his expression into a smile and leans down to bump his nose softly against Bucky’s.

“Course.” He whispers back and it says something that Bucky waits for the verbal confirmation despite the myriad of hints Tony’s given that are so blatant they could probably see them from space.

Bucky tilts his head up and just like that, they’re kissing.

 

Tony’s never been one to wax poetic about kissing. Kissing is kissing, it’s skin against skin, sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s weird, mostly it’s wet. But Tony will gladly write a thousand odes to Bucky’s lips and how they part beneath his, _soft, hot, slick_ , and because it’s Bucky kissing him, after an entire night – well, who is he kidding more like an entire _lifetime_ – of playing Tony’s libido like a fiddle.

It doesn’t take long for Bucky to quite apparently let go of his inhibitions and give it his all since as soon as Tony opens his mouth in response to the first tentative lick across his bottom lip by Bucky’s tongue, all bets are off and the kiss turns downright filthy.

As if by agreement, they both release all that pent up tension that’s been simmering between them since a while. It’s hot and wet and just a little bit rough, flicks of tongue, tiny nips of teeth, the rubbing of beard and stubble, slick lips, contrasting sensations. God, Tony had almost forgotten how amazing it felt to kiss guys too.

Bucky’s hands make their way to his ass and give it a squeeze causing Tony to hum encouragingly against Bucky’s mouth, which lets out a breathy, “Oh damn,” and so begins the most involves kneading of his ass ever which are interspersed with sighs of appreciation from Bucky.

Not that he minds, he knows what he’s working with – he’s not been voted ‘Best Ass’ out of thin air. But it reminds him that there’s so much more of Bucky that he wants to appreciate and that like, his bed partner, he should carpe that diem.

He cards a hand in Bucky’s hair, kissing along that stubbly jaw, enjoying the way he shudders when Tony’s nails scratch against his scalp as his teeth graze on the edge of his jaw.

Tony then slides a hand down to Bucky’s chest, running it up, fingers skipping along the buttons before he undoes a few, leaving the already gaping shirt to expose more of that wonderful skin that he’s dying to put his mouth on – so he does. He kisses and licks along Bucky’s neck, taking the gamble based on previous data points and bites down at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

Bucky bucks up with a moan (and Tony internally crows because ha! his math is _never_ wrong), his hands tightening on Tony’s ass, pulling him down to grind against his hip and – _hello, soldier_ , looks like someone else is taking an active interest in the proceedings.

Not that Tony has any ground to stand on seeing as he’s slowly getting hard too just from some necking.

The second time Bucky tugs his hips down, Tony takes the hint and adjusts his knees so that he can comfortably rock his hips into the cradle of Bucky’s lap, rutting against him with frankly graceful rolls of his hips, giving him a little taste of what’s more to come, all the while as he mouths at Bucky’s beautiful goddamn collarbones and down his sternum, _yay for multitasking_.

Bucky moans again when Tony grazes his teeth at his collarbone, his skin under Tony’s lips breaking out in goosebumps but this time he reacts much more actively, his right hand flying to Tony’s hair, using it to tug his head back – which makes Tony shudder and Bucky smirk in a nice little role reversal –, as his left arm wraps around Tony’s waist, holding him firm in place.

“You’re all kinds of trouble, aren’t you?” Bucky breathes out, something wondrous in his rough voice and he leans down to kiss Tony so thoroughly, he momentarily loses all concept of time and space and the next thing he knows, he’s on his back on the couch, Bucky’s hand cupping the back of his head and the other holding him by the waist in a gesture that’s so sweet, it makes Tony’s chest feel a little bit fuzzy.

But then Bucky slides his metal arm out from under Tony and presses a bit closer and Tony realises that he has a very sexy man – the one he’s been lusting after since for-fucking-ever on top of him – between Tony’s thighs, looking at him with a gaze hot enough to burn through lead and all fuzzy feelings get parked for later as desire takes the wheel.

Tony brackets Bucky’s hips with his knees, hooking his heels onto his thighs, pulling him down more firmly, wanting that gorgeous body all up against him.

He pulls up short when Bucky doesn’t move an inch which, _rude_.

He looks up with a slight pout and Bucky chuckles, finally letting more of his weight fall onto Tony as he leans down to whisper in his ear, “Think you’re the only one who can tease?” before tugging at his earlobe with his teeth and Bucky taking charge is just _so damn hot._ Tony is _all for this plan_.

“Good to know,” Bucky replies with a husky chuckle as he slides his hand along Tony’s cummerbund – and oops, brain to mouth filter deteriorating –, while he drives Tony mad by nosing along his neck, rubbing his stubble along his skin as he leaves behind a trail of wet kisses.

 

Tony’s neck is a hair trigger for him, causing him to arch up into Bucky and every small sound he makes only makes Bucky redouble his efforts until finally he latches his mouth onto the side of Tony’s neck and sucks, and every swipe of tongue, every wash of hot breath against his heated skin, every brush of the long hair sends zings of electricity down Tony’s spine and _fuck_ , it’s too early in the game for Bucky to have discovered exactly what turns Tony into a gooey mess.

It’s only when Bucky pulls away to frown grumpily at Tony’s waist that he realises the poor man had been pawing at his accessory, wanting it off. He gathers enough of his wits to card his hand through Bucky’s hair, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“There are hidden fastenings at the back, very tiny, you’ll have to use your other hand. There’s not enough fine touch sensation in the metal one, sorry about that, by the way – I haven’t had a chance to look into it yet -”

“You don’t need to, it’s fine. I was just –”

“ – no seriously, remind me to tell you about some of the sensory modu –” Tony cuts off with a gasp as Bucky cups his chin and brushes his thumb along Tony’s bottom lip which has the nice side effect of having the appendage slide into Tony’s mouth.

Taking this new development in stride, he steadies the metal wrist lightly with his left hand, closes his mouth along Bucky’s thumb and sucks, looking up at him with the best approximation of ‘fuck me’ eyes that he can give – which is _pretty damn good_.

Bucky’s mouth slackens and his eyes turn darker still and he slowly slides out his thumb swiping it along Tony’s lips, smearing his saliva over them and it’s very obvious where his thoughts are when his gaze is trained onto Tony’s lips like the sniper he is.

“Still wanna say no to the sensory modules?”

Bucky looks up at him with an almost incredulous expression before he growls, something subvocal with the words ‘cheeky’ and ‘little shit’ and in retaliation tugs his wrist out of Tony’s grip – gentle, even in his haste – before grabbing both of Tony’s forearms in his hands  and pressing them against the armrest above Tony’s head as he grinds down, causing both of them to groan.

His mouth descends onto Tony’s neck again and Tony digs his heels into the meat of Bucky’s thighs trying to pull him closer and closer still.

They’re moving against each other in a proximation of what they both want but only with less clothes and more of Tab B into Slot T, dry humping on the couch like teenagers.

Before Tony can suggest taking this someplace more private – not that he minds as evident by the myriad of images and videos on the net but he also doesn’t want this amazing heated moment to be interrupted by anyone at any cost – Bucky pulls back and asks, “How attached are you to your clothes?” 

“Not at all? I’m a billionaire, Barnes, in case you hadn’t no- _oh holy fuck_!”

And oh holy fuck is right because Bucky goddamn Barnes just transfers both of Tony’s wrists into one hand, the right one – and seriously, how is he still so careful with Tony in the middle of the peak of their lust – and bends down to bite the upper edge of the cummerbund between his teeth as his metal hand comes up beside it, tugging at it before he tears through it like the silk is nothing but tissue paper.

The poor fabric gets thrown to the side and Bucky squeezes Tony’s wrists once to signal him not to move them before he takes his hand away.

Not like he can anyway, since Tony is still frozen in shock and lust and then he doesn’t move because he _has_ to hold onto the armrest for the next part as Bucky grabs onto both sides of his shirt and tears it apart before Tony can even process the premature demise of his cummerbund.

And then his mouth is on Tony’s skin, licking a broad stripe up his navel, stopping just shy of the edge of the reactor that’s humming beneath the blackout cover he puts on for events, before diverging off to sucks and nibble at Tony’s nipple and arches up in response with a loud moan, sliding up along the couch a little as Bucky grinds down, only to have the top of his head bump against the armrest.

Everything stops for a moment as Bucky sits up in alarm and Tony can’t help but chuckle at his startled owl expression that’s quickly being replaced with amusement.

Tony sits up, grabbing Bucky’s shoulders to use as leverage, as he says in between his chuckles, “Bed – we need a bed. Yours, mine, anyone’s, I don’t care. Actually, mine. Let’s do mine, yeah, more comfy. Satin sheets. Best view in the tower.”

 

Bucky looks around as if coming out of a daze and flushes a little, looking too damn adorable for words, shooting Tony a sheepish look.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise. Yeah, bed sounds like a great idea.” He concedes, leaning over for a kiss as his hands run along Tony’s sides and then down his ass, surprisingly bypassing it to grab onto his thighs instead. Tony gets an inkling of an idea and no other warning before Bucky is hauling him up, causing Tony to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck or risk disbalancing them both.

“Oh shit – fuck. So, so unfair. You’re not allowed to be this hot.” Tony murmurs against Bucky’s lips before kissing him again without abandon, once he sees how easily Bucky is carrying him as he climbs off the couch.

When Bucky pulls away from the kiss to breathlessly ask JARVIS to take them up to the penthouse, Tony utilises his time better by unbuttoning Bucky’s shirt with one hand as he explores every new inch of skin with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

He only lets up when Bucky presses him against the mirrored wall of the elevator, and shamelessly grinds up against Tony’s ass, and that too only so that he can watch how Bucky looks when he moans in pleasure, especially when Tony digs his fingers into Bucky’s hair and scratches at his scalp.

He looks beautiful and wanton and Tony cannot wait to take him apart and watch that pleasure bloom on his face again and again until it hits a crescendo. He’s going to be a goddamn revelation when he comes.


	4. Slaking of the Thirst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so I made a tiny error from trying to change the chapter count and instead listed this story as complete. totally my bad! it is complete now, although there might be an epilogue (but no promises). 
> 
>  
> 
> also fair warning, this is pure filth you guys (ft. schmoopy feelings and introspection but smut nonetheless)

They make their way to the penthouse somehow, although Tony knows objectively that Bucky’s progress was guided by JARVIS’ amused instructions and Tony himself had been carried all the way to his bedroom as if he weren’t in fact a grown man only slightly shorter than Bucky himself – _God fucking bless super soldiers_ – but Tony is too preoccupied with getting his hands and mouth all over Bucky’s shoulders and neck and doing his best to strip him off his shirt because goddamn that chest is a revelation and Tony is not going to let anything get in the way of his exploration.

Bucky however, has other plans, his arms not budging slightly from where they’re holding Tony tight to his chest, even as he takes the time to kiss Tony filthily and deeply, despite how much he tugs at them to get the shirt off. In the end, it leaves them with the khaki shirt fluttering behind Bucky like an ill-fashioned cape and Tony could not care less. The uniform has done its job and now the only thing Tony wants to do is get it the fuck off of this beautiful, beautiful man who’s literally carrying him to bed.

Due to the heat between them, the way they both can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other as they finally give in to the building tension that characterized their every interaction, Tony had assumed that he’d be thrown onto the mattress and ravished, held down and fucked to within an inch of his life. 

He hadn’t yet factored in that despite how desperately Bucky seems to want Tony too, evident from how he’s hard and grinding against Tony, the soldier is scarily gentle when moving him. It’s something different than treating Tony as fragile – if that were the case, the genius would have set the record straight immediately because lack of super soldier serum notwithstanding, Tony is the furthest thing from breakable – but there is something else at play. Bucky treats him like he’s _precious_ not vulnerable and god, Tony cannot help but feel the rush of warmth in his chest that is too close to blooming into something all encompassing and scary.

His back meets the mattress in the most careful of put downs and he tightens his legs around Bucky, clinging to him like a limpet, hands clutching his shoulders. He just wants to feel that glorious body all up against him. When Bucky finally pulls his arms away to slide them along his flanks Tony takes the opportunity to strip the soldier of his uniform shirt, grinning smugly as it lands on his bedroom floor.

“I was right. It does look better on my floor.” He looks up with a grin, only to find Bucky hunched in slightly, kneeling between Tony’s legs looking nothing like the epitome of sex on legs who’d carried Tony in his strong, firm arms and laid him out on the bed. Tony sits up in concern, confused and a little worried he’d done or said something wrong already – which is kind of record breaking soon for him – when Bucky’s right hand flutters over to his left shoulder hovering over the site of implantation of the prosthetic and the large silver scars the run across his pec and deltoid and suddenly he gets it. _Oh, honey…_  

Tony sits up completely and cups Bucky’s cheek, slowly coaxing his head to tilt up and he hates, hates the shame that he seems in those gorgeous silver eyes and he hates that he completely understands. He hadn’t really taken his shirt off either even during the most intimate of moments with Pepper right after he’d come back from Afghanistan.

“It’s okay, Bucky babe. Look, we match.” He says, a hint of humour in his tone as he peels away the blackout cover, exposing the worst of his scarring all around the reactor, the shrapnel scars, the implantation scars, as well as the grid like light scarring from the after effects of the worst of the palladium poisoning.

Bucky’s eyes fall to his chest and he sucks in a sharp breath. Despite his bravado, Tony is still hesitant to actually look at his face, a curl of anxiety at seeing anything like disgust or worse, pity. But no, because this totally isn’t the best day for Tony’s predictions and because Bucky Barnes must take some cosmic delight in blowing all his expectations right out of water, there’s nothing but barely concealed awe as his left hand slowly, stutteringly reaches forward.

There’s something very poetic about the blue light from the reactor reflecting onto the chrome plates of Bucky’s fingers. Lots of things come to mind, about shared traumas and similar life experiences and acceptance and understanding, but it all falls to the side as Bucky looks up silently asking for permission which Tony grants with a nod. His fingers carefully, oh so carefully, trace along the worst of the scarring, the cool smooth metal feeling so wonderfully foreign in the areas where he still has sensation.

“Does it….”

“Hurt? No. It’s just-"

“Sensitive.”

Their eyes meet in understanding and Bucky’s shoulders relax as his right hand comes to hold on to Tony’s waist and the left starts to explore the casing of the reactor and the scarred skin a little more confidently. In response, Tony places his right hand on top of Bucky’s bicep, right on top of the red star and leans in to place a kiss on the biggest knot of scars, along the edge of the metal.

Bucky shudders beneath him as if he could come apart with just that one touch and Tony starts mouthing along the skin there, only pausing when there’s a clink of metal on metal echoing in the room above their gasps.

Tony glances down to see Bucky’s hand now splayed on top of his reactor and he has a moment of breathlessness – _a hand reaching for the reactor, Obie, betrayal, pain_ – before he registers the sight of the articulation on the fingers and the glint of polished metal and it reassures him that this is _Bucky_. Bucky who is even at this moment so acutely tuned in to tony’s microreactions that he’s slowly pulling his hand away and that’s the last thing he wants.

So, without much conscious control, Tony’s other hand comes up on top of Bucky’s pressing his metal hand more firmly against his chest.

Bucky’s right arm slides along his waist and he’s looking at Tony as if he’s just gift wrapped the moon and given it to him and perhaps if there’s anyone who knows the depth of what Tony has just allowed, nay, offered, then it has to be Bucky – Bucky who had already demonstrated his trust by letting Tony work on and improve his arm, who even now lets Tony lay kisses on his scars.

When Bucky lays him down, using his metal hand to slowly push him back, holding him steady with his other arm, it’s the most plaint and relaxed he’s been with his shirt off and his reactor exposed and arguably vulnerable.

He doesn’t know how it turned from the heated fumbling downstairs to this tender, unassuming _thing_ that Tony doesn’t know how to categorize even as he’s experiencing it.

Bucky’s laying next to him, a thigh between Tony’s legs as his fingers run down his chest and he’s looking at Tony in a way that makes Tony want to push his face away even as he begs him to never stop looking at him like that.

He’s got himself propped up on his arm and he leans down to kiss Tony so sweetly and then his lips are moving down his neck, pausing to tease his nipple, and then lower and lower still and Tony would feel a little inadequate that all he can do is run his fingers through Bucky’s hair and gasp and moan in retaliation but the way Bucky is so smug and delighted by every little reaction he gives that he lets himself relax and lose himself in the sensations, letting Bucky quieten the racing divergent thoughts that characterize the inside of Tony Stark’s mind.

Tony undulates his hips up letting himself grind against Bucky and then his fingers are playing with the waistband of Tony’s tuxedo pants undoing his fastenings as his mouth sucks at Tony's stomach, teeth grazing against his happy trail, his tongue dipping into his navel as Tony's muscles twitch and jump in response and he moans, fingers tugging at Bucky's long hair.

And then that wonderful, devious mouth is moving lower pausing to bite at the jut of his hip. Tony raises his hips in response, bucking up, and the ever diligent Bucky uses that opportunity to slide his pants down, his breath ghosting over where Tony’s dick is tenting his tight briefs. He kicks them off when they reach his ankles and Bucky catches his airborne foot sliding off his socks and following that up with a kiss to his ankle and repeating the same for the other leg.

Tony never realized that was even an erogenous zone but he cannot negate that now as the simple touch causes goosebumps to break over his legs. Fuck. Whoever thought that slow and steady wasn’t sensual needs to reevaluate their entire life as this is the most turned on Tony’s been in ages.

Finally, when he’s mostly bare to the gaze Bucky sits back and watches him with naked desire in his eyes and his appreciation makes Tony preen slightly, letting his fingertips dance along his abdomen as he looks up at Bucky.

“You just going to sit and stare all night, soldier? I don’t mind, I’m a very self sufficient kinda guy.” He teases, cupping himself over his underwear only to have his hand batted away and a hot, wet mouth closing over his clothed cock, sucking at the patch wet with his precum.

Tony can’t help but moan, losing his words again and arching up, wanting more of that mouth he’s daydreamed about often. It takes very little encouragement for Bucky to pull him out of his briefs, stripping him off the fabric efficiently, the man himself as eager as Tony is to get things going, and then there’s his gun-calloused hand wrapped around Tony’s cock and his tongue swirling around the tip before suckling at the head, slowly working his mouth down in increments.   
  
It’s not the dirtiest blowjob he’s had, or the most talented one. There’s no clever tricks with the tongue, no pornstar deep-throating but it’s amazing because that’s _Bucky_ who’s moving his mouth over Tony’s cock, sucking at him, glancing up to make sure Tony’s having fun and god, he is, so much and he makes sure to convey that with breathless praise of _‘yes’_ , ‘ _oh fuck',_  and ' _god that feels good'_.

  
If Tony weren’t too preoccupied with having his brains blown out through his dick, he’d have to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t actually dreaming and that it was actually the starring hero of his fantasies holding him down with his metal hand as he sucked Tony’s spit-slick cock, his right hand following the movement of his mouth.

When he speeds up, Tony groans in pleasure, his hips making tiny aborted movements up, stalled by the hand on his hip, holding him in place and god if that’s not all kinds of hot.

He’s propped up awkwardly on one elbow as he pushes away Bucky’s hair from his face, letting his hand rest at the back of his head, the better to enjoy this gorgeous spectacle that he’s been blessed with. “Shit, baby, that’s, mm, so good. You’re so good, yeah. Knew you would be, fucking sinful mouth of yours, damn, been thinking about this so long…” He blabbers, uncaring of what words fall from his mouth.

He is so caught up in the sight of Bucky’s pink mouth moving over his cock, his eyes locked onto Tony’s that he barely notices when the metal hand slides down along his thigh and then disappears between his legs. It’s only when there’s the feeling of the cool metal of his palm cupping his balls before two dexterous fingers rubbing questingly along his perineum that he even realises what’s going on and _fuck fuck those fingers inside him would be –_

“Stop! Wait!” He calls out, his hand pushing Bucky’s forehead away and the soldier pulls away so swiftly that Tony’s left blinking at the sensation of cool air wafting over his heated cock.

“Shit. Sorry, I - sorry, wasn’t thinking. Won’t - you okay? Did I…” Bucky’s stammering, his voice rough and eyes wide and _oh oh he thinks he’s done something wrong, way to go, Stark you absolute asshole_.

“No, no, no, baby, that’s not – you did nothing wrong, au contraire you did everything _so so_ right and trust me I’m not letting you go without having you fuck me on those fingers of yours,” Tony replies, sitting up slightly and nodding at his left hand which is hovering awkwardly in the air, “seriously, number one fantasy right there but I can’t- I mean, I’m- I only got the one in me and I’m utterly useless after I come, trust me and like I said you were doing things so right I was- I would’ve been there if you breathed on me wrong, gone, done, finito.” He pauses for breath and he doesn’t even mind that Bucky’s now seconds from outright laughing at him because at least that self conscious edge is lost in his movements and now when he braces his hands on either side of Tony’s head and leans down to kiss him, his movements are once again all sexy confident jungle cat like and _damn_.

Tony almost whines when his cock rubs against Bucky’s abs but thankfully the slight respite means he’s not on so much of a hair trigger any more and he can kiss back without having to worry about blowing his load too early in the game.

“Mm, I don’ mind, doll. I just wanna make you feel good. Pretty thing like you, ‘m sure I could come just hearing you moan.”

And this is seriously not anywhere in the realm of fair that Bucky has to go and misuse that sexy Brooklyn drawl of his to say things like _that._

“You’re a goddamn menace, Barnes.” Tony pants, running his hands over his chest only to have them snag on his waistband and he looks down in realization. His pants aren’t even off and here Tony was about to come like the world’s lousiest bed partner. There is no way Bucky is leaving here without the entire Tony Stark experience.

Guess it’s time to live up to the playboy part of his media-appointed title.

“Why don’tya do somethin’ about that then?” Bucky smirks only to have his eyes widen in shock when Tony wraps his legs around his waist and flips them over causing the soldier to fall onto his back, Tony straddling him with a smirk. _Gotta thank Tasha for those sneaky Widow moves_.

The man below him is honestly a sight to behold.

“Maybe I will,” Tony proclaims as he leans down to lick abroad stripe over Bucky’s left nipple before teasingly tugging at it with his teeth. The response he gets is so, so encouraging and Tony spends longer than intended sucking, teasing, only moving to extend the other the same courtesy when Bucky starts groaning, his hips rocking up against Tony’s ass, his clothed cock – _which holy shit if his estimate is anywhere close is going to be sizeable to say the least_ – his hands clenching on Tony’s hips.

“Patience, grasshopper,” Tony teases as he takes his time leaving a trail of hickeys, down his chest and abdomen, a little miffed that thanks to the serum they won’t last longer than overnight, although it doesn’t take away from his enjoyment of every little gasp and moan that Bucky lets out.

He uses his tongue and teeth to distract the soldier as he deftly undoes his trousers, sliding a hand into his brief to curl around his cock.

“Ah, cold!” Bucky says jerking back a little and Tony pulls his hand away with an apologetic grimace.

“Sorry, bad circulation,” He says, tapping lightly at the reactor.

“No worries, doll. Just surprised me is all,” He breathes out in response spreading his  thighs in invitation. “Go ‘head.”

Tony makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat that doesn’t pass unnoticed if Bucky’s smirk is anything to go by and he wants to get back into it like Bucky is so blatantly inviting him to but he also remembers how the soldier has a tendency of layering up and a very valid aversion of the cold and yeah, not happening.

“I have an idea, why don’t you lose these pants while I go get the warming lube?” He suggests already crawling towards the bedside table as quickly as he can without kneeing Bucky in any unfortunate places.

“Sure thing, boss.” Bucky replies with a sneaky swat to Tony’s ass which admittedly, was a little bit on display from his deliberate arching of his back as he rummages in the drawer.

He makes a triumphant noise when he grabs the right bottle, mostly by haptic navigation as he looks over his shoulder to bear witness to Bucky raising his hips and stripping himself off the dress uniform pants, not wanting to miss a second of the impromptu strip tease.  

Before things can get more distracting, he catches hold of Bucky’s right hand and turns it to expose his wrist, rubbing some of the lube onto the patch of skin.

“Tell me how this feels.”

“Yeah- yeah, good. ‘S tingly. And warm.”

It’s only when Bucky gives him the go ahead that Tony lets himself take in the sight under him. “Wow, seriously, your thighs are a health hazard,” He breathes out, eyes roving all along his legs.

“Says the man with a million dollar ass.”

Before Tony can retort, he catches sight of a splash of red fabric at his hips. _Is he wearing…_

“Wait!” He says, tossing the bottle on the bed as he crawls forward in interest, making Bucky pause with the briefs midway down his hip, his cock – which, yes, Tony’s estimate wasn’t too off the bat because of what he can see it is _thick_ – trapped by the waistband as Tony scrutinizes his underwear, a little dismayed that it isn’t what he thought it was.

“Ugh, Superman, really? I’m a little hurt, Winter Wonder. Hurt and betrayed. How dare you, get those off right away.” He huffs mock scowling down at Bucky who is now laughing, running a hand down his face, cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

“Sorry, doll. Didn’t think it would’a been decent wearing my Iron Man ones when I was gonna be in your company for the evening.”

Tony half groans because he is a sucker and it only takes the naughty idea of Bucky wearing his colours, the image of his armour beneath his clothes to get him all revved up, all engines raring to go, scrambling over to pull Bucky’s offensive underwear off and away from the sanctity of his bed.

And then he has to pause and reevaluate his entire life because holy fucking shit, a cock like that could turn a virgin into a cockslut. It’s long, thick, uncut, almost pornographic as it stand proud, pink head peeking from the foreskin.

“You plan on watching it the entire night or….” Bucky’s voice breaks through his dumb, open-mouthed staring and Tony pinches his thick thigh in retaliation at having his own words thrown back at him.

He grabs the bottle and squirts some of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together as he shoots Bucky a glare, “Just for that, I’m going to suck your cock.”

“How is that a threa-  oh sweet Jesus Joseph and Mary.” Bucky cries out when Tony wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it, coating it liberally in the warming lube.

“Good?”

“Shit, yeah. So good, darlin’.” He breathes out, his metal hand clutching at the pillows beneath his head, the other holding Tony’s shoulder and a stray thought of appreciation flits across his mind as he realizes that Bucky must be retraining himself, his strength even now to hold Tony like that and not hurt him and that Tony trusts him enough to not even think about it and it makes all sorts of feelings bubble up in Tony’s chest.

He ducks his head, unsure of what exactly his face is doing right now in response to the revelation and instead sucks on his sac, rolling his balls over his tongue as he strokes him with a tighter grip and a faster pace, stimulating the bundle of nerves under the head with his thumb.

The way Bucky groans is seriously music to the ears and he wants to hear that note of pleasure increase exponentially in his voice which is why he decides to make good on his threat and licks a broad stripe up the underside of Bucky’s cock, ignoring the synthetic taste of lube to focus on relaxing his throat so he could slide his mouth down the – _considerable_ – length of Bucky’s cock, swallowing down as much of him as he can in one go. Despite Tony not being a quitter, he has to stop at the halfway point, worried he’d choke and not in the sexy put upon way but the very real panic attack imminent kinda way and that is seriously no way to end this amazing night. Not that he minds that he only gets halfway because that is seriously one of the thickest cocks he’s had his mouth around and just the thought of maybe, perhaps, someday having it in him makes him hum in delight a little.

If he’d been hoping to get Bucky to lose control or shout in pleasure with his maneuver, he would have been sorely disappointed as the soldier goes still as a board, with the exception of a choked out sound escaping his lips and the trembling in his thighs on either side of Tony’s head. He glances up in concern, pulling up to catch his breath a little, and sees Bucky biting down on the fist of his right hand, his muscles tense with the strain of holding himself still.

“You can move if you want, go ahead cry out, it’s all okay. Trust me, I’m kind of hard to shut up in bed too in case you didn’t notice and-"

“It’s not that,” Bucky cuts in and he sounds _wrecked_ and Tony honestly has never been prouder of himself, “I just- damn, baby, I ain’t gonna stop ya but can we- I mean can ya turn around? And uh, maybe I can make you feel good too?”

Tony raises his eyebrows in surprise. It’s evident that there’s a lot more going on under the surface, that this might be something related to the lack of positive, pleasurable experiences in the last 70 years, of a history of pain and punishments, of the unfamiliarity of receiving something good just for the sake of it without any strings attached, but this is not the time to psychoanalyze; not that Tony has much grounds to stand on what with his issues having their own issues and 2 metric tonnes of baggage.

“You wanna 69?” He asks instead and it seems to be the right choice as Bucky relaxes incrementally.

“Yeah, c’mon, sugar, back that ass up on me.”

Tony laughs incredulously, “Jesus. I’m gonna kill whoever introduced you to 90’s slang.”

Bucky grins in response, letting go of his death grip on the pillow to beckon Tony towards him. Much, much better. He’d rather his soldier be dorky and flirty than the rigid, restrained ball of tension he was.

Tony shrugs easily and swivels to straddle his hips in reverse cowgirl and crawls back, looking over his shoulder with a smoulder. Bucky’s laughter dies out into a breathy ‘ _damn, baby_ ’, his hands going to his ass and groping indiscriminately as Tony stops when he’s within reach of Bucky’s slick, enticing cock.

“Tony, darlin’, can I put my mouth on you?” Bucky asks and Tony’s about to reply with a ‘ _that’s the whole point of this, mister'_  before his words are snatched from him in a wave of lust as Bucky’s metal finger rubs over his hole and the meaning of his words washes over Tony.

Fuck. Really? Could he be more perfect?

“Go ahead, do your worst,” Tony says and Bucky lets out a pleased noise as if Tony’s the one doing him the favour, and then he’s pulling Tony’s ass down onto his face and sliding his tongue between his cheeks, running the tip along the perineum.

Tony moans as he turns to his own treat, wanting to make this fair, using a hand to hold Bucky’s cock steady as he pulls the foreskin down to suckle at the head. He’s always been a fan of this position as it not only gives him multiple sensations but also keeps his overactive mind busy enough with the task that he can lose himself in his and his partner’s pleasure. It’s not often he gets to – or rather got to – indulge in it so Tony makes sure to break out all the stops, doing all he can to give Bucky the best blowjob of his life, even as he rocks back a little, spreading his knees a little more to make it easier for Bucky to go to town which he _does_. With abandon.

His tongue swirls, flicks, sucks, teases his hole, his hands gripping Tony’s ass and holding it open as he makes a mess of Tony both figuratively and literally, his scruff rubbing at the sensitive skin of his ass, and Tony has to let go of fancy tongue–work to focus on the up–down slide, facilitate with hand, intersperse with teasing the balls kind of technique. Not that Bucky has any obvious complaints, not with the way he is groaning and humming into Tony’s ass.

It doesn’t take long before Tony is leaking and approaching the edge again, essentially riding Bucky Barnes’ face as he fucks his mouth down onto his cock.

It’s honestly better than any fantasy.

Which is why when Bucky pus away, letting his warm breath ghost over Tony's hole, he makes a sound of displeasure but he's not an amateur so he continues tonguing the head of Bucky's cock.

“Sorry, doll, jus’- oh goddamn- c'n I use that slick in ya? The warming one?”

Tony pulls away to give a breathless 'yes’, spine tingling with anticipation. Bucky takes the time to adjust, getting his shoulders between Tony's knees and he feels the stretch in his thighs as he's forced to spread much wider than before and _damn if that isn't hot as fuck._

He feels Bucky's mouth sucking at a spot on the apple of his ass just as there's a slick finger rubbing at his sloppy relaxed hole. His attention is focused on the sensation of the tingling lube and it's only when it pushes in slightly that he realizes that the breach is not a flesh and blood finger but firm, smooth metal and Tony just about loses his mind.

Before he's even halfway in, Bucky starts suckling at Tony's balls, right hand winding around Tony’s thigh to curl around his cock. He moans around the head of Bucky's cock when the appendage finally slides all the way in, licking up the salty precum before doubling down on his efforts.

There's no way he can last for long, not if he's subjected to this three pronged attack for a prolonged period of time and he wants Bucky to come with him, if not sooner.

Tony's efforts bear fruit as Bucky's thighs are twitching under him and he lets go of Tony's balls to turn his head and pant open mouthed against his inner thigh, before twisting his finger and curling it upwards in search of –  _oh god yes! –_  and starts to massage his prostate with unyielding precision causing Tony's hips to jerk, unsure of whether he wants away or to fuck himself back onto that amazing finger.

He sends a token of gratitude to his past self for being a genius and giving Bucky's arm fine motor skills to put evolution to shame.

Everything Tony does to Bucky is responded with an equal and opposite reaction by the other man. It's almost like this competition between them to see who can make the other lose it sooner, one Tony wouldn't mind losing either, and it's so much fun to have someone match him move for move.

Tony's undulation of hips comes to a standstill though when Bucky wraps his right arm around the small of Tony's back and he has to just sit and _take it,_ moving only his mouth and hand along Bucky’s cock twisting at the top to milk it best he can, tugging at his balls that are dripping with his saliva with his other hand.

Bucky pants out, “God, ‘m close, doll, g’nna blow soon,” against his skin before he starts sucking at his balls again and tonguing along his leaking cock. “Can ya come jus’ like this?” He asks, his words causing shivers to run down Tony’s spine, pumping his finger in and out a few times, unerringly hitting his prostate at every thrust in.

Tony replies with a moan of agreement. His veins are on fire and his muscles tight with tension, coiled and ready to fall over the edge. It doesn’t take long for his balls to tighten and as Bucky jabs his tongue into his perineum bumping his prostate from the outside as well as rubbing it from within, Tony is coming, muscles locked as he pulls away to cry out unintelligibly, arching back as his cock shoots out his release onto Bucky’s chest.

Bucky wrings out the last of his orgasm by stroking Tony’s cock with his right hand until he’s shaking and boneless. The drag of Bucky’s finger as he pulls it out makes him groan slightly and he feels a little overstimulated as he flops backwards and sideways, half draped over Bucky once he turns.

“Let me- I’ll just-” He says with eyes half closed as he fumbles down towards Bucky’s cock that despite his best efforts still hasn’t seen even a single orgasm and he starts jacking him off best he can. He hears the rumble of Bucky’s chuckle under his cheek and the press of lips on his damp forehead. “It’s okay, sugar. You don’t gotta-”

“No, no, let me, please.” He says, forcing himself a little more awake as he turns his head to rest his chin on Bucky’s shoulder to watch his hand moving over his cock. Bucky’s hand joins his after a second and adjusts his grip and pace and they start stroking him in tandem, Bucky’s large hand on top of Tony’s. He doesn’t know how long it actually takes, time not existing in the floaty headspace Tony finds himself in, but then Bucky is coming as well, spilling with a loud curse onto their joined fingers, over and over and over again. If he had more than two braincells to rub together presently, he would’ve made some calculations about how much more he came as compared to the average, down to the nearest cubic meter but he makes a note to explore that at a later date.

When Bucky’s done, Tony brings his semen covered hand up to his face before taking an experimental lick. Mm, not that different than the usual if he’s remembering it right.

“Oh fuck- babydoll, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Bucky groans, watching Tony with blown out pupils.

Tony snorts and flops back down over Bucky, wiping his hand onto the sheet behind him. “Later. Got way more where that came from,” he says, his words ending with a yawn.

“Sure thing, hotshot. You rest now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“No, s’fine, I’m ‘kay. Jus’ restin’ m’eyes.” He mumbles and the last things he register are Bucky’s amused chuckle, his arm pulling Tony in close to his side, and a kiss pressed to his forehead.

“Yeah, you’re jus’ perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a few disclaimers: 
> 
> please check with your partner before indulging in any temperature play with warming lubes and such. also, some warming oils are not meant for internal use so please be sure that it is a water based lube that is ok to use internally. 
> 
> also also, the boys didn't use condoms or even talk about it which is really not the way to go about things. if I didn't think it took away too much from the main fic, i'd have them use both condoms and dental dams but this is purely fantasy so I skipped that bit! 
> 
> stay safe, y'all! 
> 
> this is also my first time posting smut. lemme know what you think. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :)  
> You can also hit me up on my [ tumblr ](http://roe-sesandthorns.tumblr.com/)!  
> Or come join the 16+ [Stuckony discord ](https://discord.gg/wGaSvU8)for all things Steve, Tony, Bucky! :D


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